Since you were younger, you would have dreams about meeting your soulmate. They were always blurry, and you couldn’t see their face, but you could see their clothes, well, sort of. The dreams started to become more clear when you were fourteen. The night of your fourteenth birthday, your soulmate’s shoes became very clear. They were a pair of black boots, there was a small scuff mark on the right side of the left shoe, almost like they had been standing on their own foot. Every night when you saw their shoes, you memorized more details. Everything from the small faded bits at the heels to the pattern of the stitching.
I feel like these powers come down from on high and tell us what we’re allowed to question and what we’re not and it’s like you can’t actually educate yourself to enlightenment on all social issues, it’s 2017 not 5017, we’re just going to fuck up, not all has been made clear, keep your pants on
Of all the rooms in their home, Hannibal had only been interested in remodeling two. The kitchen, Will had expected. Anticipated, even. Hannibal having anything less than a top-of-the-line kitchen was anathema to both of them, though they’d certainly made do with cruder appliances along the way.
Will had not, however, expected Hannibal to have so many opinions about the bathroom.
“Facilities at the hospital were…limited,” Hannibal told him, and Will had snorted in reply.
“Understatement of the century.”
Hannibal narrowed his eyes. “Tell me, Will, was your toilet ever taken away from you?”
“No,” said Will, a little confused. “Was yours?”
“Two words, if I may,” and Hannibal cleared his throat. “Dignity pants.”
And that had solved the issue of who would renovate the bathroom.
The results were nothing short of glorious. A white marble trough sink; a free-standing bathtub that Hannibal had literally knocked a wall down to have room to install; some ridiculous wall-mounted toilet that Will still wasn’t sure how he’d inevitably have to fix. Best of all was the curbless shower with its absurd three shower heads, one waterfall and two handheld. It made cleaning up after hunts simple, and Will suspects that it was Hannibal’s silent invitation for Will to make as much of a bloody mess as he liked.
There was, unfortunately, no expectation of privacy. Hannibal always wound up sticking his head in for some reason or another. But Will had grown used to it–the interruptions, at least.
Will’s been in the shower an entire three minutes when Hannibal pops his head around the door and asks, “How do you feel about nuts?”
He licks his lips and reaches for the shampoo, some stupid, prissy, expensive shit Hannibal insisted on. “Is that a trick question?”
Getting prepared to tackle Mr Montenegro’s history tidbits. I wonder just how much Mrs, err, Miss Herzegovina was close to him..Well, let’s find out soon.
Don’t be confused about the flag - it’s the old flag of Montenegro, from the time of the Kingdom of Montenegro. I used the version without the coat of arms (people’s flag). According to some German writer from the 19th century, the colors of this flag can be seen even in Montenegro’s traditional clothing: the scarlet red top, blue pants and clear white stockings.
But then he and Serbia really messed up their relationship, and he wasn’t willing to have a flag too similar to his cousin’s. Mr Serbia really doesn’t know how to keep good relationships with his neighbours, huh.
aos-skimmons prompted: Skye is blind and likes to sit in the park every day to listen to the people there and Jemma meets her because she has a dog, who ran over to Skye’s guide dog.
There you go, love. This one’s for you ;)
Skye likes the chilly breeze. It brings the scent of autumn; caramel apples, and often enough the scent of rain. It also brings sound to her ears; playing children, barking dogs, and footsteps on crunchy leaves.
Frankie is pressed up against her leg, his fur probably giving off on her skinny jeans, but she doesn’t care so much. She can’t see it anyway, and she doubts that anyone else would comment on it. His soft pants sound clear in the air; otherwise she’d barely know he was there.
She grins to herself. He had been with her since she was little and he was just a pup. They grew up together. Frankie had been her eyes since she was eighteen and now five years later he still was. He also was the one to get her stuff she couldn’t find and thank the mailman. They had become great friends.
Suddenly Frankie sits up and on auto-pilot Skye raises one hand, as if she’s non-verbally trying to say that she can’t see what’s going on.
“What is it, pup?” Skye asks, but she only hears sniffing that she’s pretty sure isn’t her dog’s.
“I’m so sorry,” a female voice reaches her ears and clears up some of the confusion: another dog owner. “Bruce just sprinted off when he saw your Labrador. He is beautiful. I didn’t realise he was a guide dog until it was too late. I’m so very sorry.”
Here’s another new design we are developing, inspired by Mirror’s Edge.
Most of you know that pants are a new thing for us, but we think development is coming along quite nicely. The inspiration of these pants is clear, and we’ve worked hard to get the look just right; but looks aren’t everything, and in this case we want these pants to pay homage to their source of inspiration in the practicality of the design. So along with the zipper at the back of the calf which tapers the pant leg, we are also trying to design them with a superior range of motion, not to mention durability, so that they can be worn by even the most daring and acrobatic traceur.
At the same time we want to maintain the fit and style of a casual pair of pants (with a twist, of course), so that non-acrobats will also feel cofortable in them.
All that said, we haven’t been able to decide on a name for this product. We have two possible options at this point; one that’s a little snappier, and one that is more indicative of the inspiration for the design. So we’ve decided to put it up to a vote and get some feedback, to help us make a decision.
His vanilla scent body wash lingered along his tanned skin and it mixed with the lit candles you picked out last Christmas. You stripped clear of his pajama pants and picked up his Rolling Stones’ tee from the chair in the corner of the room before slipping your arms through. He shuffled out of the bathroom with his hair still damp before he pressed a kiss to your temple.
“Movie tonight? The kids are down and it’s your turn to pick,” he grinned, beginning to dig through his drawer for some boxer briefs. You didn’t respond. Instead, you kind of just admired the back of him. You loved his skin, his shoulders, the little dimples at the small of his back. Every little thing about him was never unlovable. In your eyes, he was with flaws but he was still perfect.
“Mhmm?” He turned back around, dropping the towel and slipping on his underwear. You tiptoed over to where he stood and snaked your arms around his waist before he sweetly did the same.
“I don’t want to pick tonight. You pick,” you smiled, interlocking your fingers just above his bum. He chuckled, beginning to lean down to rest his forehead against yours.
“You smell nice,” he hummed, his eyes drifting closed.
You giggled before pressing a kiss at the corner of his lips. “I think it’s the candles, my love.”
You felt his head shake as his eyes fluttered opened, “No, it’s you.”
His lips met yours again while his hands slid further down to your bum, giving it a small squeeze, “Hey now Mister, are you going to pick a movie or what?”
“Fine,” he escaped your arms and walked over to the cabinet placed under the TV screen, pulling out the disc of a very familiar movie. “You ready for another night of When Harry Met Sally, babe?”
You chuckled, “I’m always ready!”
The movie wasn’t nearly half way done before you fell asleep in his arms with your head resting under his chin. He could feel you lightly breathing against his skin before he pulled the sheet over your shoulder to cover you. He gently kissed the top of your head before reaching over to the nightstand to turn off the dim light.
A few seconds after his eyes drifted closed, a small, gentle knock pushed against the closed door on the other side of the room. His eyebrows furrowed wondering which little one it could be late at this hour.
He slowly shifted you off his chest before pushing back the duvet and slipping out of bed. He walked quickly to the door before grabbing the knob and opening the door to find his little six year old son with teary eyes, hugging his scruffy teddy.
“Hey bubba,” Harry bent down to Stefan’s height before pulling him closer. “What are doing up?”
His voice was trembly; he felt bad when he woke you guys up late at night but he couldn’t help it. He didn’t like sleeping in his room; he couldn’t see Noah on the top of the bunk and he didn’t like the darkness below.
“My room’s scary, Daddy,” he squeaked, looking up at Harry’s tired eyes.
Harry chuckled, brushing his hand across Stefan’s light, brown hair. “What’s scary, bub? Noah’s with you, isn’t he?”
He nodded, his grip tightening on his teddy. “Yeah but he’s on the top. If the monsters come, they’ll come get me and not Noah.”
Harry almost laughed, picking up Stefan in his arms and walking back to the boys’ room at the end of the hall. Stefan’s head fell on Harry’s shoulder; he was hoping Harry would maybe let him sleep with you guys tonight but he knew that stopped a long time ago.
Harry set the little one down and tucked him back under the sheets, hoping not to wake Noah. “There are no monsters, Stef. I promise, look,” Harry stood from the edge of the bed and walked over to the closet, pulling the door open to show him. Stefan stayed quiet. “Do you want your lights tonight?”
Stefan was quick to nod his head with his arms slipping out from under the blankets. Harry flipped on the switch and the room was illuminated by the starship stickers stuck on the wall and ceiling.
“Better?” Harry raised an eyebrow earning a small nod from Stefan. He stepped back over to the bed and took a seat at the edge. “You know, Nana and Poppy would always have to tuck me back into bed as well,” Harry began, a small smile peeking at the corner of his lips. “Yeah, I thought there were monsters in my room too and I’d sneak down to the kitchen to get meself a glass of juice. Poppy would always catch me and bring me back upstairs.”
Stefan giggled, his eyes almost twinkling, “Really, Daddy?”
Harry nodded, “Yep, but Poppy would always tell me that there were no such things. He would tell me how he had caught all the monsters before quarter to nine and I could sleep peacefully. And that’s exactly what me and Mumma do every night; we catch all the monsters because we would never let anything hurt you.”
Stefan’s smile was small as he kept his gaze on his father, “I love you, Daddy. I would never let anything hurt you too.”
Harry chuckled. The six year old was always trying to keep his words align and it was possibly the most adorable thing you’ve seen and heard.
Harry leaned down and placed a kiss on his forehead, “I love you too, bub. Goodnight.”
I’m sorry it’s been so long since I’ve posted a one shot. I’ve been so busy with classes and work, I haven’t had the time to write and I’ve missed it so much. I’ve missed you guys as well :(( One more week filled with exams and then I’m all yours lovelies, I promise!
i bet you that sasuke and sakura can be so fucking quiet when they have sex that it happened more than just a couple of times for them to literally sneak off into the next room and just fuck really slow but hard against the wall while the others are chattering and laughing next door
idek right now what kinda way i’m feeling towards jamilton, but the ship name as such is a work of genius bc basically it’s hamilton’s whole name and jefferson only got the j in which personally i find very satisfying